


NICE BOYS

by Queenoftheuniverse



Series: PEEP SHOW [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Swearing, alley rutting, voyerism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 20:50:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3704499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenoftheuniverse/pseuds/Queenoftheuniverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Greg are so desperate for each other after a long day at NSY they decide to do dirty things to each other in an alley. Sherlock peeps them and wanks himself off...and is someone else watching too?</p>
            </blockquote>





	NICE BOYS

NICE BOYS

It was only a minute between shoving Lestrade against the rough wall of the alley and sinking his teeth into the detectives neck before John whispered:

"He's watching again."

Lestrade moaned. He could not help how he felt about this, ever since John had let him know that Sherlock deliberately peeped them. At home in their lounge room, through the door to Johns bedroom, and now in the alley because John was hot for his detective and could not keep his mouth off him. Greg LOVED to be watched, and to be watched by Sherlock, the "unapproachable man", was just amazing.

"Yeah, I just felt you get harder Greg, you pervert." John whispered, hot in his ear, rutting his own erection against Greg's wonderful hardness. 

"Where....?" Greg asked John, rolling his head back against the brick so John could have easier access to the wonder of his neck.

"Alley mouth, next to the electricity transformer." John told him, marking Greg's neck with teeth and lips. Greg moaned again, a bit higher. He imagined how they must look to Sherlock, Greg hard against the wall, John shoving up into his restrained body, the sounds they were making, the rutting in the half darkness. Greg shivered, turned on by how turned on Sherlock could be.

"Is he...?"

"He has his coat on, I can't see, but I bet he is Greg. I bet he is rubbing himself down there wishing it was HIM on you, not me, wanting you writhing under him as you are doing now, with me."

"Jesus John, your filthy FILTHY mouth...."

John replied by using his filthy mouth to take Greg's own, and shoving his hand down the front of the DI's trousers. He rubbed none-so-gently and the hot smell of the detectives arousal filled his nostrils. John moaned deep in his throat and rubbed his own hardness against Greg's thigh.

"God I need you Greg..." He said into the DI's lips, louder, so Sherlock could hear. Greg moaned, throwing his head back but looking under his lashes to the alley mouth, where he could see Sherlock. The raven haired man had clapped his pale white hand over his own mouth and was, indeed, palming himself roughly against those impossibly tailored trousers. The sight set off fireworks on Greg's brain and his moan turned to a desperate whimper.

"Christ Greg, you smell so desperate, have you been wanting me all day?" John asked, voice rough with need. He circled his hand around Greg's cock and began to pull it, all the while still fucking his own dick against Greg's leg.

"Yes John..." Greg croaked. "All day. Paperwork....with you across the desk from me...those hot fuck-me eyes and that LOOK you give me....you know...what it does..."

"I do...and nobody but you and I know about how hot and wet I make you." John said, "This is OUR secret."

"Jesus!" Greg hissed, beginning to buck against Johns hand. He knew that was for Sherlocks benefit, Sherlock being oh so smart and knowing their secret, the only one who did, and how much that in itself would make the Consulting Detective hard with want. In fact, Greg could see Sherlocks hand begin to move faster over his trousers, not even stopping to get inside and tug himself properly.

"Our dirty little secret John..." Greg moaned, gripping Johns hair and dragging the blonde in for a filthy kiss, all tongue and moans and lips. 

Then came the half formed sentences of desperation.

"Greg, Christ!"

"John, please..."

"Tell me!"

"Let me..."

"Do it!"

"Please...please...please...oh God John, GOD!!"

Greg crashed into his orgasm, grasping hold of Johns arms and twitching so hard his head stuccoed against the brick wall. He would feel it later but for now it was merely another part to add to the waves of toe curling wonder his orgasm gave him. He was barely aware of Johns own orgasm and the lustful kisses to his throat and "Greg's" that John was whispering.

He was very aware, however, of the stuttering whimpers at the end of the alley, the one long gasp, a stagger and then silence as Sherlock melted away.

"Christ John...." Greg finally sighed, running his fingers through Johns hair and kissing his fevered brow.

"Perhaps one day we should invite him to join us. I'd like to see you kiss him insensible with that luscious mouth of yours Greg."

"Mmmmm." Greg hummed, eyes half closed in post orgasmic haze.

"And it might stop Mycroft from watching us too." John said then, throwing a wink over his shoulder to the camera on the wall opposite. "After all, what sort of disgusting pervert wants to watch their little brother engage in sex acts with other men?"

The camera juddered suddenly and flopped as if someone's hand had gone loose on the other end.

Greg laughed and John joined him.

"Pair of perverts." He sighed and snuggled into the wonderful leather jacket that smelled just of Greg. "Not like us, we are nice boys."

Greg chuckled in a very dirty way.

"Shall I escort you safely home Mister Watson? All sorts out at this time of night."

"If you would not mind Detective Inspector. I am sure I am safe with you..."

The pair straightened themselves up and strolled hand in hand down the alley as if it were just another normal night in London.

#


End file.
